


Sprachfimmel

by Cylin



Series: Language Kink Fics [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: German Language, Language Kink, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cylin/pseuds/Cylin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fill:<br/><i>Clearly Erik and Charles know a variety of languages and either one of them gets turned on when hearing the other speaking a different language. Dirty talk in German anyone? </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sprachfimmel

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God. Can I just say, this made me cringe inwardly thinking about writing it. German dirty talk always makes me think of bad German Porn and why is there so much bad German porn anyway? Huh?!  
> So I tried to do it a little differently… Hmm, I’d say that was an, er, interesting German language lesson…. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Also I blame a very special friend of mine for this. Yes, you, Aimée, I’m looking at you!  
> 
> 
> (Translations at the end)

A little silly, but a lot of fun.

 

There is a strange kind of gurgle from above. Charles looks up from his kneeling position at Erik’s feet and Erik cuts off the sound when he sees him looking. He tries to stay cool, controlled but Charles can feel the mental static that is swamping the room, he doesn’t even have to try.

And then, suddenly, like flipping a switch Erik moans and then he talks. His voice is a gravelly, scratchy sound, the consonants sharp, the vowels crisp and it takes Charles a moment to realise, he’s not talking in English. Weirdly Charles’s mind can still feel the emotional meaning behind the words he doesn’t understand.

“Mein Gott,” Erik moans. Oh, he definitely understands that one. At a particularly wet swipe, one of Erik’s hands flies up to his mouth and he bites down on the ball of his thumb to keep quiet, but it’s no use. “Oh Gott, Charles, bitte… das…” Anything else is drowned out in a rattling groan. Charles loves the abandon in his voice. The way the harsh consonants choke on his ragged breaths.

Erik’s knees lock jerkily, trying to support him, but they feel like rubber bands.

“Bett,” Erik rasps, “Sofort.” He stops then, looking perplexed. “I mean, er, `Bed. Now.´” Erik looks sheepish, only now realising he’d used the wrong language.

“Sorry.”

“That’s ok,” Charles reassures him. “I like it when you speak German,” he says with a private smile, gathering saliva in his mouth to slather it over Erik’s exposed flesh liberally.

“You do?” Erik sounds even more perplexed and he looks a little ridiculous leaning against the closed door with his cock out.

“Yes, I do,” Charles says gently as he gets up from the floor, his knees clicking. “Your voice changes ever so slightly. It’s rougher, more real, needier, I like that,” he explains with a wicked twist to his lips, his own voice roughened by need.

Erik groans and it sounds so helplessly turned on, Charles just has to kiss it better. He feels Erik sag against him and thinks that `Bett´ is definitely a good idea. Erik grabs him around the waist pushing his cock against Charles’s trouser leg. Charles cannot help his breath catching in his throat at that.

They are slightly clumsy in their haste to reach a soft horizontal surface and fall onto the mattress practically still fully clothed. Erik pushes one hand underneath Charles’s suit jacket and shirt needing to feel his skin, while he manhandles Charles onto the middle of the bed underneath him.

“Say something in German, please,” Charles murmurs tentatively. His gaze is intense with need. Erik’s mind goes instantly blank like it always does when someone asks that particular question - whatever the situation - and he cannot think of anything to say the more he tries to think of something that would fit. “Er, what would you like me to say?”

“Anything,” Charles groans with abandon, pushing his crotch unashamedly against Erik’s still clothed thigh.

 _Heilige Scheiße!_ Erik thinks, unguarded.

 _Yes!_ Charles’s voice is a low needy whimper in his mind.

For a moment Erik debates to just say anything if it has this effect on Charles and comes up with _Küchenschrank, Wand_ and _Handtuch_ , which is more than ridiculous and completely inappropriate and also, why is his mind supplying him with stuff related to households in this very moment? It’s also starting to kill the mood for him.

Charles writhes underneath him, mewling and rubbing his groin repeatedly against Erik’s thigh, pushing himself closer to orgasm. Charles opens his mouth on a particularly sweet, high-pitched and breathy – God, _breathy!_ Erik thinks – moan, his mouth glistening wetly.

 _Zunge_ , Erik’s mind supplies with ease. Charles groans in deep satisfaction as Erik’s mind chases the word with images of a wet, glistening tongue sweeping lazily over heated skin, salty taste of sweat, little hairs tickling taste buds and saliva making everything slick.

Erik leans in. _Haar_ , he thinks and pushes his nose into Charles’s hair. It smells of sweat and shampoo and the grass from when Charles was training outside earlier, but sweat most of all. Erik really likes that. He buries his nose deeper, squashing it against the other man’s scalp, taking deep breaths and thinks _Haar_ repeatedly, only to hear Charles’s breath hitch some more.

“Erik,” Charles moans against his ear, trying desperately to shift his hips from Erik’s thigh to bring them into contact with his cock. _Namen_ , Erik thinks and grabs one of Charles’s thighs, bending it, to finally grind their crotches together. “Sag nochmal meinen Namen, Charles,” Erik groans, strands of Charles’s hair getting stuck between his lips as he speaks. _Erik, Erik, Erik_ , Charles chants in his mind in answer, because he cannot talk between his moans and quivering groans.

Erik arches his back, leaning back to look at Charles, their hips being incidentally pushed together even harder. Charles whimpers. Erik looks at him. _Haut_ , his mind supplies. He loves how he can only see patches of skin peeking out from Charles’s rumpled clothing, but what he sees of it is flushed and sweaty. God, he loves the blush, he loves making Charles sweat. He just smells so good and his skin tastes so good. _Haut_.

 _Hände_ , he thinks as Charles grabs his ass cheeks with both hands and pulls him even closer. Charles’s voice is completely gone now, his moans are just breathy huffs of air. Erik loves how he touches him, how this Englishman can lose all his inhibitions and just want. Want with such abandon. Erik loves it that he is the reason.

“Berühr’ mich,” Erik whispers and instantly feels Charles’s mind caress his in arousing, gyrating strokes. He is coming before he even notices his orgasm rising, shuddering against the smaller man. Charles’s breath hitches and he arches, caught as unaware, coming against Erik’s hip.

“I can’t believe we just came in our clothes like teenagers,” Erik grumbles, trying to get a few hairs off his teeth. _Haare auf den Zähnen_ , he thinks wryly. Charles twitches once underneath him. “Oh, I can very well believe that,” Charles pants, still trying to catch his breath, “That, my friend, was beyond stimulating.”

After they have gotten each other out of their now sticky and uncomfortable clothing and have crawled under the covers, Charles frowns at Erik and asks, “What does 'Küchenschrank' mean?”

In answer, Erik feels his ears go red.

xXxFINxXx

**Author's Note:**

> Translations for those of you, who are interested:  
>  _Sprachfimmel_ – language kink  
>  _Mein Gott._ – My God.  
>  _Oh Gott, Charles, bitte… das…_ \- Oh God, Charles, please… it/that’s …  
>  _Bett. Sofort._ – Bed. Now.  
>  _Heilige Scheiße!_ – Holy shit!  
>  _Küchenschrank, Wand and Handtuch_ – kitchen cupboard, wall and towel  
>  _Zunge_ – tongue  
>  _Haar_ – hair  
>  _Namen_ – names (pl.)  
>  _Sag nochmal meinen Namen, Charles._ – Say my name again, Charles.  
>  _Haut_ – skin  
>  _Hände_ – hands (pl.)  
>  _Berühr’ mich._ – Touch me.  
>  _Haare auf den Zähnen_ – literally it means “to have hair on/between your teeth”, but it’s also a proverb about “being a tough customer”  (I know, I thought I was particularly clever with this one… -_- )


End file.
